A Bounty Boy / Being Some Adventures of a Christian Barbarian on an Unpremeditated Trip Round the World

by Frank Thomas Bullen

Before, however, Mr. Merritt had got the cap off his favourite lance’s point there was a sudden cessation of the uproar, a huge whirling in the sea and the vast body sank from sight, slowly, majestically, as if the monster had suddenly regained the dignity befitting him in spite of these new and terrifying circumstances. Now the line attached to the harpoon led right aft, round a stout oak post built solidly in the boat, the “loggerhead,” and thence into the tub where two hundred fathoms of it was neatly coiled, a smaller tub on the other side of the boat holding a hundred fathoms, but all in one length.

“Hold him up, hold him up,” growled the officer, as the line began to glide out slowly, and C. B. responded by taking three turns round the loggerhead with the line and holding on to it until the boat’s nose was dragged down to within an inch or two of the water, while all hands, except the officer, crowded aft as far as they could get, with the object of putting a check upon the whale’s descent. This is always done, but remembering the immense power of a whale in addition to his enormous weight (a full-sized sperm whale weighs considerably over a hundred tons), its brake power would almost seem commensurate with that of a fly on a cart wheel.

Now they were at leisure to look round them to see how the other boats had fared. But only one was visible, and that was coming towards them at tremendous speed, obviously being towed by a whale, although he could not be seen. On she came, heading straight for them, until, when destruction seemed inevitable and the tomahawk for severing the line gleamed in Mr. Merritt’s grip, the boat steerer of the rushing craft made a mighty effort, bending his steer oar like a great bow, and she flew past them only a few feet away. It was a breathless moment, but such are frequent in this strenuous business, and except at the moment are thought little of. Here, if anywhere, the proverb of a miss being as good as a mile holds true—it generally means the difference between life and death.

Slowly, certainly, fake after fake of the line left the tub until it was exhausted, and now the smaller one began to empty in its turn. So the signal was made “running short of line” by up-ending an oar, and soon after urgency was shown by another oar being pointed upwards. But no boat was near, and all hands began to peer anxiously at the fast emptying tub, while one stood by with the drogue, a flat piece of planking a foot square which is made fast to the end of the line when it has to be slipped. It is supposed to act as a drag upon the whale, equal to the resistance of four boats. And then, as suddenly the boat righted herself with a jerk, while the men scrambled each to his thwart, the whale ceased to descend, and Mr. Merritt shouted—

“Haul in lively now, haul quick!”

As fast as the fakes could be coiled in the sternsheets the line was hauled in, for the whale rose as rapidly as he had gone down slowly, until suddenly he broke water about a ship’s length away and with one tremendous expiration of pent-up breath, sprang forward like a hound loosed from the leash. C. B. had only just time to whip his turns round the loggerhead again as the boat, with a jerk that nearly threw all hands from their thwarts, sped after the rushing ocean monarch, leaving a wide, glittering foam track behind her. Mr. Merritt leaned over the bows, clutching his long lance and glaring vengefully at the broad shining back of the whale ploughing through the waves fifty feet away from him. With coarse gaspings he implored, taunted, threatened his crew in the effort to get them to perform the impossible task of bringing him nearer to the whale. The rope was tense as wire, and their utmost endeavours could not get in an inch of it.

And now the wind and sea began to rise, causing clouds of flying spray to break over the boat as she was dragged furiously in the wake of the whale. Merritt’s rage was awful to witness. What he said does not matter; it was almost unintelligible anyhow; but his yellow teeth were bared, he champed like an angry boar, and foam flecked with crimson flew from his mouth and hung on his straggling beard. C. B. stood like a statue, alert, tense, ready to act on the instant if the whale should turn.

And thus they sped for nearly twenty minutes, until as suddenly as he had hitherto performed his other evolutions the whale stopped, turned at bay, and with a splendid sweep of the steer oar C. B. avoided running into his columnar head, bringing the boat head on to his broadside. With one exultant savage yell Merritt hurled his lance, and the whole four feet of slender steel sank into the black body as a knife sinks into butter. “Haul and hold, haul and hold,” screamed the furious man as he dragged the lance back, straightened it by a deft blow or two on the gunnel, and now, being closely held against the whale side, plunged it in again. But it struck a rib and bent almost double. Flinging the warp or line by which it was attached to the bow oarsman, he snatched another lance, uncapped it, and was about to repeat his assault, when there came a warning shout from C. B. as the agonized monster turned a somersault, his huge flukes snapping in the air as he brandished them frantically.

“Stern, stern,” roared Merritt, and all the energy the crew possessed went into those awkward strokes, while the turmoil made by the maddened whale was deafening. Black, fetid blood flew from his spiracle mingled with acrid foam, which stung like a nettle where it touched the skin, and from the wounds made by the lance the blood spurted to a distance of two or three feet. It was obvious now that one or both of those lance thrusts had reached a vital organ, and the sea monarch was now writhing in the last great struggle of death. He rolled rapidly from side to side, beat the ensanguined sea into yellow foam with his mighty tail, while masses of clotted gore burst from his spouthole with a mournful bellow, like that of some vast bull, and then in a moment the great body went limp, rolled upon its side, and lay still, save for the gentle motion given it by the swell.

All hands drew a long breath, then at Merritt’s command hauled up to the carcass and held the boat alongside, while with a boat spade he cut a hole through the tail. Then cutting the line from the irons close up to them, the end of it was passed through the hole and made fast, a small flag was hoisted, and all was ready for the ship to run down and secure the great prize.